Pick Me Up
by Krusader
Summary: [OneShot] After a three week dry spell, Dean and Jo can't contain themselves any longer. AU. DeanJo. More details inside.


**Pick-Me-Up  
**_Dean and Jo_

**Disclaimer:** Don't own 'em.  
**Author's Note:** This was inspired by a scene in abrupte's "602" fic (can be found on livejournal. Link will be posted in my profile for those who want to check it out, which I highly recommend doing). All you really need to know for this is that Dean, Jo and Sam are at a diner. Dean and Jo already have somewhat of an established relationship (as in they've been using each other for comfort sex for almost a year). Sam is more of a third wheel than he realizes. Other than that, there's not much else you need to know. Enjoy! And remember to hit that little bluish/purplish button when you're done. wink

This does contain sex, so read at your own risk.

---

Jo was washing her hands after slipping off to the bathroom before hitting the road again. She fumbled with the paper towel dispenser, burned out from a lack of sleep. _I really need to get laid,_ she thought to herself. It had been three weeks. Three _fucking_ weeks since she had been able to feel Dean's body pressed against hers. She honestly liked Sam, really she did, but she liked him a whole lot less these past few days. Having him along was putting a serious cramp in her and Dean's sex life.

She tossed the crumpled wad of paper into the trash and turned to leave, only to walk right into Dean. She never even heard him come in. _What was he doing in here, anyway?_

"Dean, what are you d-"

Before she could finish his lips were on hers, answering the question she didn't get to ask. It felt so damn good just to be able to touch him again. With Sam around they rarely got any alone time, resulting in a pent up hunger that was dying to be fed.

"I thought you could use a pick-me-up," Dean growled against her lips.

In gratifying response, Jo parted her lips and welcomed his warm tongue inside. One hand on her hip and the other slipped under the back of her shirt, she never noticed they were moving until Dean kicked the stall door shut behind him. His calloused hands prowled over her cottony skin, frisking by memory every curve, every scar, every nook that sent a flutter through her already erratic breath.

She muttered his name when he set about kissing her throat. Her voice was raspy and barely above a whisper, unable to form any other coherent words. Her fingers craved to meet his chest after three weeks without any intimate contact. He was an addiction, and at the moment she felt like a druggie falling off the wagon after unsuccessfully going cold turkey. The feeling was mutual. She could tell by the erection pressed against her stomach and the hot breath followed by fervent kisses on her throat.

His shirt was off and her hands were rolling along his back, across his chest, down to the fastenings on his jeans. Hers were already at her knees, Dean working with record breaking precision as he pushed her back against the stall's barrier. He explored deep into her core, his fingers confirming what he could already tell by looking at her thin shirt. Spurred on by the long desired contact, she ripped his jeans and boxers down. Kicking off her own pants, he held her by the waist when she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his hips.

He slid inside of her, grunting as she absorbed every last inch of him. It felt so revitalizing despite the exhaustion they both suffered. A long needed comfort had returned as he grinded against her, thrusting deeper when she squeezed him closer, tightening the grip her legs had on his waist. She crushed her body against his chest, digging her nails into the tough skin of his back, the pressure inside her mounting as each thrust sent a shockwave through her anatomy.

He pushed her into the wall, one hand on her back, steadying her, and the other mashed against the side of the graffitied stall. It wouldn't be much longer. The need they were keeping bottled up had augmented the anxiety that was finally being unleashed. It had only been three weeks but it felt more like a lifetime ago since they had last played this game. Jo clenched her nails harder into his shoulders, anticipating the release that was coming. His body tensed and she could tell he was close, too. He pounded harder, smashing her closer to the wall. It hit her harder than expected, breaking every limit and sending a convulsion through her so hard she thought she might fall from his grip. His name escaped her lips involuntarily and so loud that surely everyone in the dining area had heard. It was so exhilerating she never noticed his body tense as he climaxed at the same moment.

Jo held onto his neck, breathing into his shoulder and clutching him close to keep her chest from heaving uncontrollably. Dean delicately helped her back to her feet, steadying her as she tried to regain her balance. Her legs were still shaky as she redressed but a feeling of rejuvenation had cropped back up. She hoped to god it wouldn't go that long before she could feel this way again.

Dean pulled his shirt back on and opened the stall door, motioning for her to go ahead. Jo led the way back out to where Sam was waiting impatiently, wondering where the hell they had disappeared to.

"Ready?" Jo directed the question at Sam, giving him a _don't ask_ expression when he opened his mouth to inquire what happened to them.

Sam simply grabbed his coat and made way for the exit, Dean and Jo following close behind. She slapped Dean's hand away when it drifted from her back to her ass, shooting him a look that dared him not to tempt her. She dreaded the thought of how long it would be before they had this opportunity again.


End file.
